It's Nice To Finally Meet You
by Viet Devil
Summary: The Hale Pack and Alpha pack fight, Stiles gets heavily injured in the process.
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary:_**_ During a victorious battle with the Alpha pack, Stiles gets heavily injured in the process._

It was deep in the woods. Wayyyy deep in the woods. Stiles wonders if all the noise they're making caught anyone's attention yet. Seriously, with all the noise they make around Beacon Hills, he was surprised nobody had seen or caught them.

The pack was in a huge battle. One pack trying to claim the territory but the other wasn't going to give it up so easily.

Yea, Derek's woods, his house, nobody was getting it. Not even if he was dead. If Peter came back to life, he was sure Derek was likely to come back to life too. Would be ultimately creepy, but Derek had already crossed the creep-o-meter when kept showing up randomly, staring like he could burn holes in the side of his and Scott's head at school then disappearing in a blink of an eye.

Showing up like in the locker room.

Or the field.

Or inside the Deaton's office in the back.

Or in a hospital room.

Or in Scotts room.

Or lurking in the corner of Stiles' own room. _Coming through the window._

How did he even find out where he lived anyways?

Smelling Stiles' scent till he hits the jackpot?

Or following him?

God, did his family ever teach him not to be such a creeper?

Probably Peter's fault. **_Probably_** spent too much time with him as a kid.

Or maybe he got it from one of his parents.

Or _both_. Oh god.

He would ask if he wasn't going to get his throat ripped out with Derek's teeth if he did.

Wait—Derek. Battle.

Head. In. the. Game.

Getting distracted. A big no-no.

Too much Adderall was a big no-no.

Stiles shook his head and snapped back to reality. He observed around the area. Derek was currently toe-to-toe with the head Alpha of the…Alpha pack. That sounded weird. He looked around and saw Scott was handling with the other alpha, a female one. Jackson and Isaac were handling the twin Alphas. They actually make a pretty good tag team. Erica was clawing at a very, very built, but slender female alpha. Luckily Boyd was holding her down for Erica. Peter was nowhere in sight. Seriously, where the hell was he. The time when they needed him most and he wasn't here.

Now turning his head towards his own dilemma, Lydia, Allison, and himself, armed with Allison's father's weapons that _weren't_ stolen, they were surprisingly holding off the omega's that the alpha pack kept around. Which threw them off guard but fortunate for them; they followed and saved their asses from a surprise attack.

Go Team human!

Nearby, he heard an arrow whizz by his ear and a howl of pain. He quickly turned around to see an omega down, which still confuses him.

"Stiles! Now is not the time to get distracted!" Lydia yelled at him.

"Stiles, you need to pay attention." Allison said.

"I was _not_ distracted. I was just—c-caught up in the revelation of our bad ass human kicking werewolf ass at this current moment in time. I mean c'mon, Lydia, do you not feel awesome kicking some serious butt out there?! I'm sure you do too Allison. Seriously, you had joy teaching us how to handle one of these." He wiggled the cross bow in his hand that accidentally set it off and show the arrow above and hitting on an on-coming werewolf.

From the trees. Two were in the trees.

"Uhh-guys! Got some tree lovers up here!" Stiles said to the two of them. He stumbled back, bumping into the unconscious-hopefully dead-werewolf. They snapped their heads up and readied their weapons.

Jackson and Isaac—who were both still relatively new to this—were struggling a bit. The twins together were powerful. They had tried separating the two of them, but the space between the two only drove them more determined to get back together.

"God—dammit!" Jackson breathed out harshly. He cradled his left hip that was slowly healing.

Isaac was behind him as he was facing the other werewolf. His right shoulder looked dislocated. That was not going to heal correctly. Being an athlete and with Lydia pounding on caring for injuries that he needs to at least pretend there are some, especially a dislocated body part to avoid suspicion, he knew how to set it back.

"Hey Isaac."

"Ye—" he muttered out before receiving a hard elbow to his injured shoulder. He howled in pain. "Wh-what the hell was that for?" he looked up in hurt confusion, and gradually getting angry.

"You should be thanking me." Jackson said, turning around. "It was dislocated you idiot. It won't heal corre—" he stopped to see the werewolf rushing at them and no doubt the other twin doing the same.

An idea struck him.

He growled at the enemy, making the twin run even faster. As they both were coming close, he grabbed Isaac, who was about to charge, and yanked him down to the ground along with himself. The twins, under Jackson's prediction, had collided into each other, falling towards the ground.

Jackson and Isaac got up. Jackson smirked slightly as he got up and grabbed one of the twins by his neck and jacket. Isaac scrambled up and did the same.

"They want to be together so much. Well, let's just give it to them." he looked at Isaac, who slowly tilted his head in confusion before making a large grin. He backed up and suddenly threw the twin at his brother. At the force they were going at, the sickening crunch made Isaac flinch, but recovered quickly with the same large grin from before along with shaking his head a little.

Stiles flinched. He could see and almost hear what Jackson and Isaac were doing to the twins.

Collision times 2000 powered by werewolves. Ouch.

He looked away to see how Boyd and Erica were doing. Not so good apparently. The large female alpha had thrown Boyd off her shoulders and into Erica.

"Do steroids even work on werewolves?" Boyd breathed out as he got up.

"What, you saying the bitch cheated her way to look like that?" Erica smirked. "Can't take it that she's seriously kicking our ass." She hatefully admitted. Boyd didn't say anything, which Erica took it as him sulking about it. "C'mon, you hold her down again and I'll just gut her this time." Erica brought out her claws even sharper. "I took the time to make my nails even sharper." She hummed out.

"Remind me not to ask you for a back scratch." He mumbled out before taking off towards her.

Some focus on Derek, he was pretty much on equal ground with the head alpha. Both werewolves used all they had to claim what was theirs. Derek used a moment of distraction to lunge and sink his claws into the alpha's chest.

The alpha however, used the leverage to sink his own claws into Derek's arm.

"I gave you a warning to _back_ off." Derek growled at him.

"I thought I made it clear that I wasn't going to just _back off_." the head alpha simply answered. "Your uncle seemed to have grasped the concept and flee." He snickered. "Like a crazy damn dog he is."

"At least none of mine are dead." Derek smirked which made the head Alpha angry. He shook his head and grinned.

_Not yet._ He thought.

Stiles then steered his eyes towards his best friend Scott. Surprisingly, he was holding up pretty good. Guess after finally joining together as one whole pack with Derek, he had gotten training along with lacrosse training and Stiles training, which by the way amuses Stiles to a whole new level because apparently there are situations that Derek hadn't bother to teach Scott or probably anyone else that are important. Scott gets the hang of Stiles' situational training after the third or fourth time, which reminds him. He needs to remember to create a new planning strategy with Derek sometime.

Or maybe a surprise training with Allison and Lydia against the pack.

_Oh_, that sounds awesome.

Like incredibly super-duper awesome. Sure he was going to give them like a—two second head warning note or something.

And then blast them with…with…something that he was going to think of with Lydia and Allison.

Yeah.

Stiles filed that idea for later, when they're obviously not busy fighting off an Alpha pack and they're surprise omegas. He wonders if there were more. He thought that Erica and Boyd had mentioned about five alphas. Before them were five alphas, along with omegas that Stiles, Lydia and Allison were taking care of at the moment.

He counted the Alphas again and only came up five. The one fighting with Derek, the one fighting with Scott, and the one fighting with Erica and Boyd, the two fighting with Jackson and Isaac (or rather the two being used as ragdolls).

Something was wrong. Or more like off. Boyd and Erica had mentioned that there were only five in the group that kidnapped them. So who on earth were the ones that Allison, Lydia and himself were fighting? Unless…

"They bit others…" he mumbled out, nobody hearing him. "They bit others! There's more of them!" he shouted out enough for everyone to hear.

He was sure that Scott, Derek, Jackson, Boyd, Erica and Isaac heard but didn't snap their heads towards him.

"No shit Sherlock." a voice said from behind him. He jerked around, seeing Lydia and Allison do the same. "I had seriously thought that beacon hills' pack would've figured it out by now." Stiles looked at the one before them. It was another werewolf.

"Sorry, too many lost omegas run through beacon hills running with their tails between their legs to Derek." Stiles said. "Don't really pose much of a threat honestly. Rabid Chihuahuas are scarier."

"_Stiles!"_ the girls hissed at him.

"I'm a beta." He growled at the offensive term.

He shut his mouth and observed the man before him. He had a lip piercing, along with several piercings around his used to be ears. He had a long, messy dirty blonde hairdo that barely went past his neck. His attire seemed to consist of a dirty grey, tight, long sleeve thermal. He wore typical blue jeans with red cowboy boots underneath.

"Nice boots, Dorothy." He huffed out. Oh my god why can't he just be quiet?

"Nice sweater, Little Red." The werewolf said.

Why must everyone insist on calling him that? He likes the color red thank you very much. It's not really his fault that half his clothing attire consists of red.

"Why _are_ humans doing here anyways? Pets I assume?" he asked, tapping his index finger on his chin. "Oh! I think mates go along with the correct term. I can practically smell it off of you three." He pointed towards Stiles, who narrowed his eyes. "Especially you little red, you have that brooding Alpha's scent all _over_ you."

Wait.

What?

His scent?

_Derek's_ scent?

Stiles could feel his cheeks flush.

"I-I am _SO_ not his mate! Dude, why—how—what would make you even think that!"

Derek's scent on him was _only_ because he comes over frequently through his window for Stiles' help on research and if anything weird came up at all in any cases he's heard from his father.

Pshh, totally that.

Totally not because of those moments where he drapes himself over Stiles' bed and falls asleep and sleep deprived Stiles kind of sort of crawls into bed beside him and they both discover in the morning that they were hardcore cuddlers. (Which happens far too frequently. Not that he's complaining.)

Or the time when Stiles was doing folding his laundry and leaves his room momentarily then comes back to find a passed out Derek on sprawled on top of _all_ of his clothes.

Totally not that.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe I'm overlooking the whole scenting tradition for wolves to do that showed others what was theirs and only **_theirs_**." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "He's oblivious isn't he?" he directed his attention towards the girls, who all but nodded their heads as if it were obvious.

"_Oh_ my _god_. I'm so not listening to anymore of this." He didn't hesitate as he quickly reloaded his cross bow and shot it at the Alpha who dodged it just in time.

"Well, that wasn't very nice of you."

"It's not nice of you to attack our friends just to send out a message to the alpha here." Allison said as she quickly shot her Wolfsbane laced arrow that managed to clip his thigh.

"I heard through the grapevine that _you_ also shot them, so you have no right to say tha—"

Lydia managed to shot him in the shoulder.

"ARRGH—you _bitch_." He growled out. He grabbed the arrow and yanked it out painfully.

"Hmm, aren't you the bitch?" Lydia smiled.

"Well, well. Humans got some jokes." he brought his claws out. "Looks like I have three wolves' bitches to slaughter." He paused. "Well, maybe not slaughter little red over there. I'll take care of you _personally_. He hasn't fully claimed you yet." He almost purred out. "Till then." He said, and when Stiles blinked, he disappeared.

"Where the he—" he started to say, only to be cut off by his body being thrown across into the air and into a tree.

Which hurts like hell.

He tried getting up, only to feel pain everywhere.

Gee—nice to meet you again pain.

Pain.

Hurts.

Like, breathing.

The impact managed to knock all the air out of his lungs. He painfully struggled getting up, cradling his head. He took a step, only to get a wave of dizziness that sent him sprawling onto the forest floor.

"argh—_bitch_." He growled out. He propped himself on one elbow, the other limb carefully touching the open wound on his head.

"Stiles!" he heard the girls say in unison. Allison raised her bow and started shooting the alpha. Lydia wasted no time and began shooting as well. She went around, weapon still aiming, and got closer to Stiles.

"You better be alright." She hissed.

"I'll take that as a '_we can't do this without you'_ thing then." He blinked, hoping it would send the swirling scene before him away. "Oh god, make everything stop moving Lydia." He blinked. "You're an elf; use your spells or something!" he pleaded.

"I'm using my long lost archery skills, Stiles." She said. "Besides, my magic isn't at its peak yet."

"I thought it was always at its peak! That's what made you immune to creepy Uncle Peter's bite didn't it? Magic blood!" he hissed at the pain. "Does my cut look that bad?"

She glanced down, seeing an open gash on his head, which was seriously bleeding. She was pretty sure that the pack was going to some—

A loud, clearly furious, snarl had made Stiles heart leap. It startled him. He turned to see Derek focusing his attention towards here. His focus seemed to of made him distracted, having the head alpha have the opportunity to attack him from behind. It was only mere seconds for the two to go at it again. He could tell Derek really wanted to hurry and finish so he can come and help.

Something about that thought made him angry. He could _so_ whoop the sorry werewolf's ass.

Well, with Lydia and Allison's help of course.

So not being overly cocky here.

Stiles closed his eyes and relaxed. He took deep inhales, and slow exhales. Ignoring the pain, he pushed up and steadied himself, careful not fall over again.

He should be used to pain by now, but it seriously fucking hurts.

Lydia pulled out an arrow she laced with Wolfsbane and Jackson's kamina paralyzing slime (she took a lot of samples of that night at Scott's house when she first found out about it). She smirked and shot the arrow that went through his gut. Before he could even yank it out, he realized what she had done.

His body started having that weird, black veiny effect, along with him falling towards the ground. He growled, trying to move.

Allison stalked on over, taking out a knife from the strap on her ankle and slit the werewolf's neck. "That takes care of him." she said. She saw Lydia walk over and yank the arrow out. Lydia took out a cloth and carefully wiped the blood off. She noticed Allison looking at her.

"What? I don't want to run out of arrows in the middle of something. That would be embarrassing." She simply said.

"Can any of you give me a hand here with my BLEEDING HEAD?" Stiles shouted at the girls. The girls snapped over to him, remembering what happened to him. They rushed over to him.

"Oh, god Stiles I'm so sorry." Allison apologized. She hovered her hands over his wound, not wanting to touch it. "Does it hurt?" she bit her lip.

"Oh no, aside from the blood trickling down my head and the fact that it's a head wound shouldn't make it seem too bad." He casted an '_are you kidding me'_ face to her. Allison took a closer look, seeing the speckles of dried blood.

"Quit being such a drama queen Stiles." Lydia said.

"It doesn't look too deep." She said. "The blood already stopped a bit."

"_Aww, little red has a boo-boo?_" a voice cooed. Stiles eyes widened Lydia and Allison quickly looking around in search of the owner. A figure from above flipped from a tree branch and landed rather harshly (and awesomely, but Stiles isn't going to admit that) onto the ground in front of them. "Here, let mama make it all better for _you."_ The voice cooed once more, as if talking to a child and an enemy in a taunting way at the same time.

The figure stepped out to reveal a woman, most likely around Derek's age by guessing. She had a bleach blonde pixie haircut, orange highlights running through, black eyeliner and mascara, along with a lip piercing. She had light freckles across her nose that reached to her ears and the most piercing blue eyes ever.

It was something about her…the whole atmosphere shifted when she came in. Stiles saw her glance down at the few dead werewolves from her pack. She grimaced at the sight and gritted her teeth, revealing her fangs, her eyes then flashed red.

"You killed my pups." She seethed out, glaring at the three of them.

_Oh god. She's the freaking—_

"Alphas Mate…" Stiles uttered out. "You're the head Alpha's mate aren't you…?"

She smiled and bowed. "Head Female Alpha, please, and yes I am." She said almost happily at being the head alphas mate.

Lydia whispered at Allison. "Something tells me what we have isn't going to be enough." She paused. "We're running out of ammo and Stiles most likely has a concussion."

Stiles took a moment to take in everything. Lydia was right. At their condition, they probably won't last very long. He glanced over to Scott and the others, hoping one of them finished. Things didn't look too hot for them either. The bruised, bloodied, broken twins manage to find their strength and starting attacking back. Boyd and Erica were still having trouble, Scott was having his ass whooped, and Derek was still head to head with the head alpha. He heard snapping and snapped his attention back to the alpha female.

"Over here honey. Your problem right now is me." she smirked. "And don't worry; I'll make it as painful as possible." Her claws slowly came out. "This is what happens when you weak humans pick a fight you can't battle."

Allison smiled and laughed. Stiles and Lydia looked at her as if she gone crazy. The female alpha seemed a bit confused but didn't mention anything or falter her gaze. Allison slowly took out a small whistle and put it to her mouth. The female alpha cocked her head, wondering what the hell she was doing.

"What the hel—" she was cut off by the sharp noise coming out from the whistle Allison was blowing into. It had not the usual whistle you would hear like in games, but more of a low but piercing tone that echoed through the dense woods.

The next thing Stiles realized was the various sounds of clicking and lots and lots and lots of red laser dots on the female alpha. She seemed shocked at the sudden development.

"What was it about us weak humans?" Allison mocked. "You didn't actually think we would come along without a backup plan, did you?" she laughed. "Gotta tell you something." She said in a tsking manner. "Some say that wolves always go in a pack, and well, that's proven true given what's going on now." Allison glared at her. "The same goes for us…_humans_, especially hunters. We _always_ go in numbers." Her expression turned serious. "We never go alone."

The female alpha snarled. "You bitch!" she said, quickly raising her hands and pouncing towards Allison.

"Dad, now!" she shouted, and sure enough, all shots rang off at the target. The blows from the guns and the multiple Wolfsbane bullets had blown her body to bits.

Oh god, the nightmares were going to come back.

Oh god, Stiles definitely can't eat meat for a while.

"Why didn't you tell us you had back up?!" Stiles complained. "Oh my god, things would've went smoother if you did." And he mumbled something about him not getting hurt in the first place had the backup came sooner.

"Actually, the whistle was just a bluff." She said surprisingly. "I was waiting for the right moment so I could stab her." She said, holding up the knife she had behind her back. "It was up until the lasers that I found out my Dad and the others were here."

"Hooray for poker faces." Stiles said. "Wait, who brought them here?" he asked confusingly.

"I did." A familiar voice spoke up. Stiles turned to see Peter walking up to them. "I didn't want to take any chances, so I brought a little back up myself." He said, smiling. He turned towards Allison. "I hope you didn't mind."

"I surely didn't mind." Chris said, walking up.

"Dad!" she said, going up to hug him. "Sorry about not telling you. I had a feeling you would've made me stay home. I wanted to be here. I didn't want to stay home and be helpless again."

"It's fine honey, you were doing great acting calm, unlike Stiles, who practically went against almost every rule in the beginners hunters handbook."

Stiles angrily pouted. "Enough talking, I think the guys out there need a little help." He motioned at the pack.

Peter turned and winced. "Ooh, I think Scott's nose is dislocated." He said before running off to help his poor werewolf.

"Well, you heard the boy, move out!" Chris yelled.

The hunters span out to aid the Hale pack, finally getting the upper hand as they were beginning to be pushed back.

It was finally the point of the long tiring night, when all but one was left. Derek didn't want anyone to interrupt his match off, since now his own pack was dead, he wouldn't be as strong as before.

Stiles wearily rose up, or tried to. The others left him a little behind along with Lydia, who was trying to catch some moonlight and recharge her powers. She cursed as the clouds kept blocking the moon. Lydia glanced at him and walked over to him to help Stiles up.

"Give it up Deucalion, you're out numbered." Derek growled at the alpha.

"Ah, outnumbered, but not outmatched. As your numbers may be more than just _me_, they're all weakened, injured and some of your humans are dead." He hummed. "My pack made me proud to inflict much damage on you."

"Your pack is gone, leave or I will tear you to shreds."

"Ah, now that isn't very smart. If you had accepted my offer and join my pack, I would've taught you to never let your enemy go. Finish the job, eliminate the threat, of course you're still a rookie Alpha." He huffed. "But I'm afraid I'm not leaving without my mate." His expression turned serious.

"Pity, we shot her down." Chris spoke up.

"I realize that. She was quite a firecracker." he clicked his tongue. "So either you some how conjure up some magic and bring her back to life so I can reform my pack, or I'll just take up a new one." He darted rather quickly into the trees and before everyone could react, he landed on the opposite side of them. Right between…

"Oh—_fuck!_" a voice hissed out. Deucalion grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and began to get drag him up, toes barely touching the forest floor.

"Stiles!" Lydia cried out as the Alpha twisted his grasp in her hair and held her up as well.

"Lydia!" Jackson shouted. He was about to jump over to help her before Deucalion spoke out.

"Ah, ah, ah~" he tsked. "Wouldn't do something with these two lovely firecrackers, although there were three firecrackers, but hunters just leaves a bad taste in my mouth." he pulled Lydia's head to the side and exposed her neck. He breathed out as he bent a bit over and licked at it. "With your beautiful locks, you're a _real_ firecracker aren't you babe? You can be my mate while the other here can be my first in line."

Jackson snarled as he tried to attack him but Isaac and Erica held him back.

"It's—strawberry blonde you bastard." Stiles hissed out at him. He was beyond terrified, but his mind still wouldn't shut up. "—and fuck off. It's like nearly fifteen to one, give it a rest. It's over."

Deucalion cocked his head to the side. He bent his head over to Stiles and sniffed at him.

"We'll aren't you a talker? That bravery don't seem to hold true to your frantic little heart beat."

"F-fuck off!" Stiles shuddered as Deucalion pulled him closer.

"Stiles be quiet!" the pack hissed at him. Derek growled lowly nearby, clenching his fists.

"What would you even gain from obtaining these two? They're both just human, and even if you do turn them, they won't at all be Alphas." Chris said.

"True, but I can always just repeat what I had done to make the twins both alphas."

"You would only have a girl who would max out your bankings and complain about the things you do and a boy who won't take orders from anyone. Taking that boy in would probably be a horrible decision you will ever make actually."

"_Right. Here."_ Stiles gritted out. He was really offended by that.

"Won't listen to a word he's told?" Deucalion grinned. "Ah, the way I see it, this boy actually hold true potential and qualifications. Especially being a mate. So much loyalty and automatic reaction to protect his pack." He chuckled. He pressed his nose at the boy's neck and smelled him, taking in his scent all while looking at the enemy before him. He then recognized something. "_Oh,_ I think I want you now…most definitely you." He gripped Stiles' neck as he gave a harsh lick. "Coming across a human with such qualities as you and a _virgin_ while at it is truly irresistible."

It creeped Stiles out the fact that he didn't stop his licking. It was as if he was trying to burrow into his neck by tongue. Stiles started to squirm but it only made Deucalion grip even tighter and he could feel his claws threatening to puncture his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut. He was relieved when the man stopped. "You have another Alpha's scent on you, but nothing more. He was naïve to not claim you so quickly." He hummed. "I'll let you chose. I can either take you as my mate, or I can take her as mine, although I might tire of her and kill her off." He shrugged and shook Lydia's head.

Stiles inhaled slowly. What other choice did he have?

He looked on over to the pack, eyes full of fear. He set his eyes on Derek, who was beyond pissed. Peter, Scott and Boyd were managing to hold him off. Chris had an arm under one of his hunting friends, helping him stand. He slowly exhaled.

"J-just please don't hurt her." He tried not to stutter. "I'll go with you, no fighting, just please don't hurt her or anyone else." He hated how defeated he sounded, but he didn't want to risk hurting Lydia or anyone else in the pack.

The man grinned at his response. "Excellent choice, darling." He tossed Lydia in the air towards the pack. Jackson yelled out to her as he darted forward and caught her right on time. "You'll be an excellent werewolf." He smiled.

Whoa.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, no.

"Whoa—wait—werewolf? You're planning on turning me? Why can't I stay human?"

"I hate having to hold myself back during sex." He whispered into his ear and gave the boy Goosebumps. "This way, I won't have to hold myself back at all. I can go at it one hundred percent and not break you."

Stiles swallowed hardly, hands gripping at the man's hand around his neck.

Fuck he was so screwed.

Both literally and figuratively.

It was until a moment later that a _swish_ rung in the air and arrow after arrow were shot through Deucalion's body. One in his arm and lost his grip on Stiles, another on his shoulder, one through his neck and one on his heart. The body dropped to the ground.

Stiles fell to the ground and he scrambled away quickly only to feel a tight grip on his ankle.

"Fuck, let _go!_" Stiles growled out. The pack was coming, Derek following up front, but one harsh tug and he was half under Deucalion.

"You killed my mate, I'll just have to kill yours." He snarled out towards Derek as he grabbed an arrow out of his arm and then quickly plunged it into Stiles chest.

"STILES!" Scott cried out.

Derek slashed down as soon as he approached and cut off with his head. He threw the body off, where his pack started ripping it to shreds. Scott stayed behind along with a few others with Stiles.

"Stiles! Stiles, _please._" Scott said to him. "Don't fall asleep, you have to stay up."

But it was too hard. His eyelids were magnets and wanted to shut. Something annoying was in his chest and he wanted to scratch at it, but he couldn't gather the strength to. He managed to peel his eyes open, long enough to see something in his chest being yanked out from someone, long enough to then be hugged from behind, being half cradled in someone's large, hairy arms. He recognized the scent.

"…Der'k?" he slurred out. He didn't mean to slur it out, but he was losing his breath.

"Stiles, _please_—just—let me bite you." Was he crying? No, he wouldn't be. Derek doesn't cry, at least not for someone like him.

Stiles attempted to shake his head. "—don't. Pl'se don't"

"Just bite him!" a voice, Erica's.

Scott took Stiles' arm and almost bites him before Peter pulled him off of him. "LET ME GO! Let me—"

"Respect a dying person's last wish, Scott." Peter voice was filled with a bit of pain. "The arrow's laced with mountain ash and Wolfsbane. Turning him will only turn out like Gerard."

Off to the side, Allison came into view, only to cry in her father's arms. Crying because it was her arrow in his chest. Crying because it's her fault.

"Stiles, please, don't do this. Don't leave us, do—don't leave your _dad._" Scott cried out.

That struck a chord in him. He couldn't leave his father. He couldn't do this to him, he couldn't leave him. Before he could change his mind, it was already too late.

The darkness swallowed him.

The non-beating heart of their precious human family hit them hard.

"Stiles…?" Scott said, looking at his best friend.

This wasn't happening. No, no this wasn't happening, this wasn't supposed to happen.

The sight of his best friend lying there motionless, his heart not beating.

The sight of his Alpha cradling Stiles' head body in his arms while he cried in his neck.

The sounds of his pack crying.

The wind blew, leaves rustled in the air.

Scott felt someone yank him away. He turned, thinking its Peter only to see Lydia, tears streaming down her face. She was frantic, grasping something small in her hand.

"Lydia?" he asked, only to hear her shush him.

"Derek, move your arms." She demanded, and received a dead snarl from him. She glared at him. "Move your arms so I can try something. This is one spell I can only ever try so often."

"What spell?" Boyd asked her.

"We're losing time! Derek!" he reluctantly moved his arms, revealing Stiles' chest.

She took out her small book full of spells she received from an elder elf from her training back during summer. She flipped to the White tabbed pages, going through until she stopped and read the spell over and over. She set the book off to the side and asked Scott to tear his shirt off. He gave her a look but did so anyways. Anything to try and bring him back.

As soon as his shirt was off she then dipped her fingers in Stiles' blood, using her other hand to wipe the excess blood off using her sleeve.

She then proceeded to draw symbols around the wound. Honestly, it was a bunch of weird marks, dots and squiggly lines. The elven language was entirely difficult.

She bit her finger, drawing blood and started to draw more. It ended up resembling something like a tribal design.

She reached down into her boot, stopping midway. "Derek, do you trust me?" she asked him, looking directly into his eyes.

He nodded. "You're pack, of course I trust you." She nodded and then grabbed the small knife out. She held it to one of the markings, pressing it into his skin but heard a low growl. She looked at Derek, only to see him nod, telling her to go on.

The wind blew, finally blowing the clouds and finally leaving the moonlight shine brightly upon them. The markings on his chest glowed softly.

Lydia paused, inhaling. She then pressed, piercing it into his skin, tracing the symbols over precisely. After she finished she then held it to her hand.

"Lydia what are you doing?" Jackson asked worryingly. He didn't like that she held a knife to herself.

She ignored him, starting to chant out and pressed the knife down, drawing blood. She pulled at it, making marks down her fingers and around the palm of her hand.

"Lydia!"

She stopped, eyes snapping open. She could feel eyes all on her.

"Everyone with a furry ass get over here now." She said. Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Isaac, and Peter looked at her. They flocked in. "You need to touch a part of Stiles, any skin contact, and whatever happens, _don't let go._" She looked at them. They nodded. Allison stood near, watching closely.

"Please let this work." she whispered and pressed her hand on top of the wound. The marks began to shine, light shooting out from under Lydia's hand as she started the final chant.

* * *

Stiles felt like he was floating. He felt so warm; the pain in his chest was gone. He felt someone's hand running through his short hair. It felt real comforting.

He was reluctant to open his eyes, but he had to. He was pretty sure he fell asleep outside, in Derek's arms.

Wait.

Weren't they fighting the Alpha pack? He couldn't remember.

Why would he be falling asleep in Derek's arms also?

Stiles opened his eyes to see a bright light. He squinted so his eyes could adjust slowly. His vision slowly cleared, making out clear blue skies, wispy clouds floating. He could glance down far enough to see green plains. Green luscious grass.

He glanced up when he could still feel a hand running through his hair. He glanced up to see a person he hadn't seen in a long time.

_"Mom?"_

"Up and at it, Sweetie." Her voice was soft, still the same. Her big beautiful amber eyes, her lips, her long brown hair. All the same. The gentle stroking of her hands on his cheek was just how he remembered also.

"Mom…?" he couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing, or feeling.

"Yes, it's your mother." She smiled. She called him by his name. The name she gave him, and she was the only person that could say it so perfectly, how the consonants and vowels rolled perfectly together.

He reluctantly sat up, staring right at her before just falling apart in front of her. She frowned and held him tightly, humming. He didn't feel bad at all. He didn't care. He just sobbed right there in her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Oh honey." She chuckled. Stiles managed to stop crying and looked at her.

"Wha—where am I?" he asked.

"You're in heaven, honey."

What.

Whoa, whoa—

"_What? _Heaven?!" he paused and slumped. "I'm dead?" he received a smack on the arm. "_Ow!"_ He hissed in pain looking incredulously at his mother.

"How in the world did you end up here?!" she exclaimed. "I didn't want to see either of you until a very long time. You're so young, did you know how I felt when one of the angels came to tell me my _son_ was here?! To see you lying there under this tree?" she threw her hands up in the air to signal the enormous tree behind her.

"Mo—I'm sorry! I—I really couldn't just let him take Lydia over me, he would've killed her! And honestly, I wasn't expecting him to do that! _Ow_, Mo—stop smacking my ar—_Mom!_" he whined out.

"I saw everything _Genim_." He flinched as he called his middle name.

"I'm really sorry."

"Why didn't you accept the bite? It would've saved you."

"I'm so—wait what? How did yo—"

"I've been watching over you Genim. Now answer me."

"Well—hah—I don't know. I know part of me wants it, but another part doesn't." he breathed in and out. "There's so much I can do when I'm a human, things humans can do that werewolves can't and I didn't want to lose my humanity." He mumbled out.

"But it would've saved you." She looked at him, hurt.

"I think I remember Peter saying it wouldn't."

"The Wolfsbane and Mountain ash had little traces, it would make you sick, but it wouldn't kill you."

Stiles looked at her. "Wait, how would—oh looking over, never mind."

She shook her head. "No."

"My husband forgot the fact that Gerard had large amounts of Mountain ash in his body that he assumed the worst for you." A voice sighed out. "He's an idiotic fool, he gives me headaches."

Stiles twisted his head to see a woman, hair dirty blonde about mid length. Her eyes were blue. He then saw a bunch of people walk up to them. One person though, made him realize who they were.

"_Laura? _Laura Hale? Which means—" he flailed and gasped. "The Hale Pack!"

Stiles saw everyone. Derek's Mother and Father, Laura and two other guys, Derek's brothers probably. Peter's wife, along with three of her kids. He was shocked to see that she held a baby in her arms, two kids, a boy and a girl holding on to her other hand. They were so young.

Laura walked over to him and sat beside him. "We met your mother when she heard the Hale family arriving. She recognized us from Beacon hills and came to meet us. Over the years, we stuck together." she paused for a moment. "I wanted to thank you actually, for deciding to go out there and try to find my dead body that night. I was afraid Derek would've been all alone, trying to deal with crap his own way and digging himself a deeper hole." She laughed. "He needed a person like you around."

Stiles look at their smiles.

"She's basically thanking you for being an annoying shit you are, quoted by Derek to himself no offense Ma'am, and bugging him so much that Derek began to get used to it." a snarky voice said. It was the shorter one, his younger brother probably. "I'm Zack by the way, Derek's second elder brother."

"Wait, you're not the youngest?" he asked. Laura and the other brother laughed, seeing Zack's face grumble. Ah, there was the infamous scowling. It's hereditary. He laughed, picturing Derek and his brothers making the face simultaneously.

"Thank you for looking over my brother." The other brother said. "You can call me Trenton." He smiled and crouched beside him. "My little brother is really just an idiot right now and he needs someone to steer clear for him. Honestly, what would you expect, biting a bunch of high schoolers?" he rolled his eyes. _Just like Derek._

Derek.

He missed him now. There was a pain in his heart when he thought about him.

Actually, that pain felt very real, because it started to fucking hurt like hell, to a point where he doubled over in pain.

"Oh—fuck—_fuck_!" he hissed out.

"Honey? Honey what's the matter?" his mother asked worryingly. She put a hand on his back and another hand on the side of his face.

"My chest—it hurts." He breathed out. The hale pack glanced at him.

"Hurt? Hurt—you're in heaven, how would it hurt?" She looked at the Hales.

Laura eyes his chest. "Stiles, lay down." She sort of manhandled him on his back, head in his mother's lap. She then proceeded to rip his shirt open, mouth gaping at the glowing marks slowly drawing on his chest and then danced around his chest, heart in the center.

"Dad what the heck?" she looked at him.

"Those symbols are of the Elven tribes. Elves whose powers center around earth." He answered her. "I haven't seen this spell before, a few similar, but nothing like this."

"Spells similar to these, glowing a white aura, are healing spells. This one seems to be more…intricate." Her mother spoke out.

"I recognize this spell." Peter's wife said. "This one can only work if what you're using it on is a pure virgin."

"Oh honey, you're still a virgin! Thank goodness." She sighed in relief.

Stiles would be embarrassed is he weren't hurting so much right now. He felt the sharp pain stop. He sighed in relief.

"Go—Je—Ch—names I cannot say at this moment because I'm in heaven—that was torture! Isn't Heaven supposed to be peaceful, you know, _rest in peace?"_ he breathed out. "How can that even hurt? Aren't I supposed to be dead? Why could I feel that?"

"Is one of your friends an Elf, Sweetie?" his mom asked him as if she didn't hear what he just said.

"Yea—Lydia is—wait—is she—"

"She's bringing you back." She finished for him. "Isn't she?" she looked up to the hale pack.

Peter's wife nodded. "The spell requires a tribal elf, a ceremonial dagger blessed by the elder elf, very precise markings as well as perfect chanting and the spell being casted on the being must be a pure virgin. It has to be casted under half a moon, so the moon can connect with its other half up here." she looked at Stiles. "It also requires energy from a supernatural creature. This typically drains all the energy if only one is present, which would be considered a sacrifice. It was a very perfect moment for her to cast this spell, with seven werewolves present."

"How do you know about this so much?" Stiles' mother asked.

"I was raised in the elven tribe. They were very open to creatures of the forest. This spell also has to be casted on sacred ground."

"Sacred ground, so how could this possibly work?" Laura asked. "Unless—"

"Hale property is sacred ground." She smirked. "Stiles is _very_ lucky."

There was a burning in his chest that erupted. It hurt so much that he wanted to claw at it. He felt arms hold him down. "Fuck, fuck—isn't healing supposed to feel all nice?!"

"That's just a children's myth humans say to their child." She said. "Healing is basically rebuilding what was lost. Your tissues are growing back, of course this would hurt."

_"Fuck!"_

"Honey, language!"

"It _hurts._" He whined. "It hurts."

"It'll be over soon, just suck it up Sweetie." He felt his arms were free.

He laughed. "I missed you Mom." He looked at her. "Dad misses you."

"I know I missed you two so much." Stiles glanced at the hale pack.

"Derek misses you so much." he said. "Creepy Uncle Peter does too."

His wife huffed out a laugh "I'm sorry for the way he treats you, he wasn't always like this." she sounded glum.

He shook his head. "No, no. I understand."

"I swear, if neither of you don't make a move, I'm personally going down there and shoving you and Der' Der' in a closet until you make out." Laura hissed playfully at him.

Stiles blushed, as if his body wasn't in so much heat already.

"Honey, it's time to go." His mother hummed as she ran her fingers in his hair.

Stiles looked at her, panicking. He glanced down to his body to see it disappearing, which was so freaky.

"Wait—no—Mom I- don't want to leave you." He said. "Mom—"

"Don't worry honey, I'm always here. Momma's always watching." She rocked him back and forth gently, the way she used to when she put him to sleep. She started humming his favorite lullaby, the one from Pan's Labyrinth.

He cried as he started to feel his mother embrace beginning to weaken.

"Mom, I'm so sorry." He said.

"Honey, it's not your fault. It never was your fault."

"If I hadn't—if only I listened, you—" he started to hiccup.

She shushed him. "Honey, it's not your fault. It was that man's fault. He's the one to blame, not you."

"Mom…I love you so much."

"I love you too. And please, tell your father the truth. He's piecing it together; tell him before he finds out on his own."

Stiles nodded. "I will."

"And please go to sleep more than you do now."

"I will."

"Put some meat on you too honey, you look thin."

"_Mom."_

"Wear protection too when you and Derek—"

"_Mom!"_

"Werewolves can't get diseases." Zack grinned.

"Oh really? That's wonderful! Thank goodness." She sighed in relief.

"Oh my g—seriously? Are we having this conversation right now?"

She chuckled and kissed him on the forehead. "Momma loves you." She told him.

He kissed her on the cheek before she rose up. "I love you too, Mom."

Stiles' vision started to blur.

"Tell my son to stop blaming himself." Derek's father asked him. "Tell him to get his tail out of his ass."

He nodded, hearing his mother hum to him.

"Tell Derek you love him." Derek's mother told him.

He nodded. Of course he was going to tell him. It was the fact that it really wasn't the right moment to tell him. He needed to focus on the enemy at first before other things.

But the fact that Derek's family and his mother gave him the go ahead, he was glad.

"It was nice to finally meet you guys." He said, eyes closing.

He smiled. He liked his family. They were funny.

"Bye Mom." He said.

"Bye honey." Was the last thing he heard when he fell asleep.

* * *

He could hear sobbing.

Someone was crying.

Actually a lot of someones were crying.

"Why isn't it working?!" one of the voices cried out. "It's supposed to work!"

"Lydia, you did the best you could." A voice hushed her.

Lydia? Why was she crying? She wasn't hurt was she?

"You healed his wounds."

"But I didn't heal him!"

He felt warm, oh _god_ they were so warm, arms wrapped around his chest, rubbing circles in his skin, soft sniffling followed after. He missed this feeling. This feeling occasionally came time to time. It was rare, feeling these arms hold him, drawing circles into his skin. These moments always made his heart _beat._

He felt the circling stop. The hand flattened out over his chest, over his heart. He felt the body jolt right up, along with a few gasps.

The arms started to shake him gently.

"S-Stiles?" the voice said, along with a few others.

He opened his eyes, looking into those piercing, incredible eyes he fell in love with.

"_Stiles_." He held him a bit closer. He felt his body drag up and lean into Derek's body, his head leaning on his shoulder and neck. "Stiles, please say something." He asked in assurance. He had to be sure.

"D'r'k" he tried to say. He felt too exhausted. "C'ld" he shivered.

"Don't worry, I got you." Derek's voice cooed to him.

"'M sl'py." His eyes closed.

"Stiles wait—no, stay up. Don't go anywhere ple—"

"N't go'n an'ere" he sighed out as he passed out in the warm embrace.

* * *

He woke up several hours later, inside a room, a living room to be exact. Scott's living room to be precise, because the jell-o stains on the ceiling from when they were kids were still there.

He was sure he was in a middle of a puppy pile.

What happened? Something serious have to had happen for a puppy pile to occur. He tried to wrap his thoughts around what happened before he fell asleep. He pinched his eyebrows together (Derek would be so proud of his replication of his face) and tried to remember.

Wait.

Wai—oohhh, _now_ he remembers.

There was a battle going on.

He remembers blood, bones cracking, and being thrown into a tree, reinforcements thanks to Peter.

They had the head Alpha cornered, but he was fast and had Stiles in his hand, Lydia in the other.

He remembers Allison being a badass and shooting the man down, but after that it just blurs.

Fuck, something happened after that, but Stiles couldn't focus. He was burning up. He tried to get up, only to feel arms drag him closer to a radiator.

When did radiators have arms?

"D'de, 's fr'k'n h't." He tiredly slurred his words out in a whine.

Weird. He cleared his throat and moved his jaw around.

Heads jolted up as they shouted his name.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted. He crawled over the mass of bodies and got near Stiles.

He coughed before clearing his throat. "Yea, _Stiles_ is burning up because someone attached _Stiles_ to a freaking heater." His voice was hoarse.

"Stiles." The boy turned to the source calling his name. It was Derek that was the supposed radiator. He had both of his arms wrapped around him tightly.

"Derek…_fuck_—what happened?" he tried to squirm his way up.

Derek sat up and dragged Stiles into his chest. He was in his lap now; Derek's arms caging him in, the alpha intertwined his legs with Stiles as he did so. Now Stiles was facing everyone.

He rubbed his eyes. "How long was I out?" he coughed the last part. His throat was parched. He hears a clink from the kitchen and a moment later he felt a cool glass of water on the side of his cheek. He turns slightly to see Isaac handing it to him. Stiles made a half grin and wiggled an arm out to grab it.

When he held it in his hand, the glass almost slipped out of his hand until Derek grabbed it just in time.

"_Stiles."_ He heard the alpha say, mostly in concern.

"Sorry...lost my grip." He sighed out as he tried to reach for it again, only for Derek to pull it away. "—dude." He turn to glance at him for a moment before turning back to see the edge of the glass now pressing at his lips. "—duphhhfft—" he started to protest but as soon as Stiles open his mouth, Derek carefully poured the water into his mouth. Not wanting to choke, he swallowed until the entire glass was empty in one take.

Derek pulled the glass away and handed it to Isaac, who put it in the sink and returned to his spot.

Now that was not cool and seriously, in front of the pack who are staring at him at the moment?

"I could've gotten it." he mumbled.

"And dropping it the second after? Yea, not going to happen." Derek told him.

He sighed. "Anyone mind telling me how long I was out?"

"Almost two days. Man, when you just knocked out on us after we brought you back; you freaked us out. Lydia started slapping you but you would wake up."

"Seriously? Can't recall anything…"he yawned. "—anyone mind telling me what happened? Can't remember how we got here."

"Stiles, you died." Lydia said, causing everyone to tense up.

Whoa, hold up a minute there. "I _di—"_ he flinched as a migraine hit him momentarily. He groaned, raising his hands to his temples, massaging them. Memories finally flooded after what happened when the head alpha was shot down.

He was in heaven.

He finally got to meet Derek's family and more importantly…he saw his mom again.

Stiles' breath hitched as he remembered clearly of his mom. He didn't realize tears were streaming down his face until he felt Derek wipe them away.

A concerned look flashed across their faces, sensing him in pain.

"Stiles—are you okay? Here let me—" He heard Derek say rather quickly. He then felt his hands rise up and press a bit down on the side of his head, feeling him taking his pain away. Stiles sighed in relief, leaning against Derek's chest.

"Thanks…how did I die?" he asked.

There was a silence before he got his answer. "Deucalion stabbed your chest with an arrow…" Allison said, still feeling it was her fault. Scott seemed reluctant but he crawled towards her and wrapped an arm around her.

"And I'm sure you guys ripped him apart." He mumbled, trying to relieve some tension in the air.

"Ripped to shreds" Erica said. "We had a lot of anger to get out." She picked at her nails. "I'm going to have to file these again." she pouted.

"Pretty sure we ripped him to a point where he started to look like pink applesauce." Boyd added in.

"Thanks for ruining applesauce for me. What about the others?"

"The hunters took care of it." Isaac said. "We were more focused on something else at the time." He looked at Stiles in the eyes.

He looked away, knowing what he was talking about. His eyes glanced at Lydia's bandaged hand in Jackson's hand.

"Your hand…" he said. She looked down at it and shrugged.

"It's fine. It'll heal up with a spell that won't leave any scarring. I'll do one for you when I get my strength back."

"—but what did you do?"

"…it was part of the spell to bring you back." She sighed out. "It doesn't hurt. Jackson's helping with the pain."

He nodded. "Wait, for me?" he glanced down, seeing his chest was wrapped tightly in bandages. He saw the traces of blood underneath, where she carved into him when he was in heaven. "Fuck, I remember tha—no—I _felt_ that. God, it hurt like a bitch." The wound throbbed when he thought about it. Stiles felt Derek leeching the pain away again.

"You felt it?" she asked. "I thought you wouldn't be able to feel It." he shrugged.

"Still wondering about that too. How are you guys feeling?" he asked and received a chorus of moans and judging from how wrecked they looked, they probably felt like crap times one hundred. He laughed. "Sorry I asked. Guess the leeching on my part took a total on you guys too."

Lydia glared at him. "How did you know that? You were dead, how could you have possibly known that?"

"I felt everything, remember?" and Peter's Wife told him as well.

"You're not telling us everything." Jackson spoke up. "What happened up there?"

Stiles went quiet for a moment. He bit his lip. He nervously scratched at his chin a bit, a nervous twitch he couldn't help.

"Uhh—when I woke up, I was under a _huge_ ass tree, now that I think about it, pretty sure it was Yggdrasil…umm…I saw my mom." He paused before continuing. "I was in her lap. _God,_ I didn't realize what was going on. It seemed too…surreal, cause I thought of one of the supernatural creatures were messing with my head again." he looked to the blanket on the ground.

The room was quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner and fridge. The ticking of the wall clock in the kitchen. He chuckled. "She was just how I remembered her before." He twiddled at the blanket under him. "God I missed her."

Derek hugged him closer, nuzzling his nose into Stiles' neck, inhaling him deeply. It was Derek's way of comforting him (and himself).

"I'm surprised you're not asking how exactly you're here now." Peter said from a corner.

"Your wife told me actually." He answered him automatically before his brain caught up to him and realizing what he just said. He felt Derek's arms tense up.

Fuck.

_"…What?"_ a rare expression flashed across Peter's face. One Stiles knew far too well from experience. His usual sassy-ass demeanor façade fell, his shoulders slump down ever so slightly.

Crap.

Stiles inhaled again. (He was doing that a lot now that he realized it but seriously, he needed it.)

"He says to get your tail outta your ass, _Der' Der'_." He sort of blurt out from nervousness to Derek as he gazed up. He saw Derek's face hardened, eyebrows pinched together. He looked down, meeting his gaze.

_"_What…did you just say? What did you just call me_?"_

Stiles sighed. He thought they would catch on by now. "I didn't only see my mom; she made some awesome new friends there." He smiled, remembering how comfortable his mom was with the Hales. "I saw _them_ too." He looked at Derek and Peter.

"You saw them?" he said incredulously.

Stiles nodded. "They said to stop blaming yourself. Well, Mom said to stop blaming myself too…It wasn't your fault Derek."

Derek was speechless. He tried to say something, but didn't find the words to.

"They love you guys." He smiled, remembering his mother's lullaby. He didn't realize he was humming it till Derek pulled him down and curled up to him. Tears streaked down his face.

"They're watching over us." He said, humming. Everyone else laid down, falling sleep to Stiles' lullaby.

"I love you Derek." He finally said, kissing him on the forehead. He watched as Derek fell asleep, seeing Peter sitting on a chair closer to the pack.

Stiles closed his eyes and hummed, still remembering his mother singing. He hummed until he finally fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:**** Hey guys! I was seriously unsatisfied with how i ended things so i did some tweaking and added in this chapter! :)**

* * *

The next time he woke up again, he felt a bit better, though he was alone. He was still on the large blanket surrounded by pillows in Scott's large living room. He sat up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

"Fuck I need to pee." He grumbled. He fought the pain protesting in his chest, and well, everywhere. The hit to the tree still took a toll on him.

He got to his feet, suddenly seeing dots clutter his vision. He swayed legs still unable to gather any strength and the pain from one of his ankles didn't help at all.

"Stiles?" he heard Derek call to him. He would turn around to him if it weren't for the fact that he was about to fall over. "Stiles!"

He felt arms wrap around his waist, but the jolt of being caught sent some pain in his chest.

"Fuck—that hurts." Stiles hissed. "Why is my body so weak?" he asked as Derek helps him to his feet.

"You died Stiles. Lydia brought you back and healed the wounds in your heart, but she didn't heal the pain everywhere else. She went unconscious a bit after you did." He paused for a moment to hold Stiles up a bit more comfortably. "Your body's still weak from the hit you took from the tree as well as your body is trying to get things to normal, now that your heart is beating again." Derek explained to him.

"Fuck—so not cool." He whined. "I need to pee." Derek chuckled. He helped Stiles to the bathroom down the hall, thank fuck Scott had two bathrooms, he was sure he wasn't going to make it all the way upstairs.

Stiles made Derek wait out so he can save his dignity and pee himself. He swayed, but kept his balance on the sink. As he flushed, he wobbled to the sink and glanced at himself in the mirror as he was washing his hands. He looked terrible. He was pale; bags under his eyes, his eyes were a bit pink from sleep. He shook his head and opened the door, seeing Derek hadn't move a single inch.

Derek lifted him in his arms carefully.

"Du—Derek it's only a few feet away." He whined, but didn't struggle. Derek sat him back in the nest of blankets and pillows, back into the bundle of warmth. Derek wrapped Stiles in it.

"How's your head?" Derek asked as he tilted Stiles' head.

"My head?"

"You had a cut on your head, remember?" Derek looked at him. "You don't remember?"

"—slipped my mind. Doesn't need stitches does it?" he tried to prod at it, but Derek stopped him.

"No. It wasn't deep enough for one."

"Where is everyone?" he asked, not seeing the pack here.

"Scott went to your house to grab some clothes with Allison. Jackson went with Lydia to gather a few more things so she can begin the healing process. Erica, Boyd and Isaac went to grab some things from the market, pretty sure to stop by and change too." He paused. "I don't know where Peter went."

"Oh god, Scott better not be making out with her on my bed." He groaned. "And is Lydia well enough to do it?" Derek nodded. "Peter…I'm sure he just needs some time to himself." Stiles leaned on Derek as he sat next to him under the blankets.

"Yea…" he looked at the boy. He continued to stare, even when Stiles looked up to him. His eyes glanced down to his lips, slowly trailing up to his eyes. He could feel Stiles' heart beat a bit faster, which makes him glad he can hear it.

He watched at the boy leaned up to him, and pressed his lips on his. It was a bit chapped, but nonetheless soft. Derek had his hand in Stiles'. The moment was perfect.

"What the hell?" a voice shrilled. They snapped their heads to the door, seeing Scott's mom standing there with her mouth gaping.

"Melissa, what's wro—" Stiles groaned. Oh no, no, no, no. Why now? "_Stiles?!"_

"Uh…hey…Dad...Ms. McCall…" he waved awkwardly.

"What the hell is going on here?" Melissa exclaimed as she threw her bag on the floor.

"Well…"

"Stiles. Care to explain why you're alone, on the floor, surrounded by blankets and pillows, with…_Derek?"_ he set his hand on his gun. "Why in the hell were you kissing my underage son?" the sheriff walked towards them.

Stiles realized that his shirt was split open, and that his bandages had blood on them. He instinctively clutched the blanket closer to him and sunk down a bit. His Dad froze, seeing his movement just now.

"Are you naked Stiles?!"

"N-no! I-I'm not! Just cold, ya know, cold weather in all." He pretended to shiver. "Brrr."

"It's seventy-five."

Damn.

"Stiles, you told me you were helping Scott with a Vet convention out of town." He glared at Stiles. "You lied to me." he bent down to pull the blanket off, but Stiles held it tighter. "Let go of the blanket Stiles, we need to talk." He pulled on it harder.

Whoa, hey there, he didn't send that message. So he wasn't lying.

Crap, crap, crap.

"Ah—uh, why can't we just sit and talk here?" he did a fake laughter. "No need to get…up." he noticed Melissa walking over and pulling on it too. "N-no, come on, give the injured man a bre—ah crap." He realized what he said. Melissa gazed over to Derek, who was avoiding all eyes because _damn_ that pillow was interesting. She looked at Stiles, and noticed the gash on his head.

"Stiles what happened to your hea—did he do this to you?!" Melissa asked him.

"What—no! No, he'd never to that! I wouldn't sit near someone if they did!"

The sheriff shifted his feet, leaning on the other foot, hand still on his gun. "Why _are_ you sitting so close to him?"

"Ah—uh—well—" Stiles stuttered.

"Stiles." Derek sighed out harshly. He looked at him, tugging on the blanket. "They—he needs to know." Stiles froze. "We can't keep it from him any longer."

"Know what exactly? Are you two going out?" the sheriff's face was getting mad. "Wait—he?" he turned to Melissa. "Do you know something I should know involving my son?"

Melissa threw her hands up. "I don't know! I was out of to—" she paused. "Does this have to do with Scott's problem?" she asked Derek and Stiles.

Derek nodded. He tugged on the blanket a bit more, looking at Stiles with a sincere face.

"—_please, tell your father the truth. He's piecing it together; tell him before he finds out on his own."_

Stiles looked to the ground for a moment, and finally let go.

"Oh my goodness, Stiles what happened?" Melissa asked as she bent down and examined his bloodied bandaged chest.

"…"

"You didn't even go to the hospital did you?!" as soon as she found his swollen ankle, she cursed. "Dammit Stiles, what happened! This can get a serious infection!" she demanded an answer.

"Stiles…what's going on…?" his father asked.

"Um, I don't know where to start honestly…"

"How about we have Derek explain." The sheriff suggested. He motioned at him.

Derek sighed. "You guys can come down now." He said aloud, in a demanding tone. "This conversation is happening, and you need to be down here."

The two adults gave a questioning look before peering over to the stairs, seeing heads poke down.

Stiles gaped. "How long have you been up there?!" the pack walked on down and awkwardly stood there.

"When we saw them coming up the driveway." Isaac answered. "We tried to get up as soon as possible to warn you guys, but we were too late."

"So much for your heightened senses." Stiles mumbled.

"Scott, you are grounded for lying to us." She glared at her son.

"I'm sorry—a lot of things happened and I didn't want you to get involved." He tried to reason with her, but by the look she gave him, she wasn't buying it.

"Are we gonna do this or not?" ah, Boyd, always the one to get straight to it.

Melissa sighed. "Oh god, everyone just—sit. You guys can leave the stuff in the kitchen while I go get some supplies for Stiles." She motioned for them to go along as she disappeared down the hall.

As Melissa came back with the supplies, everyone sat down and was situated.

"Take the shirt off Stiles. I need to take a look at your wound." She said as she went over to Stiles. He carefully peeled his shirt off, with the help from Derek and Melissa, and leaned onto the couch.

Melissa took out a pair of scissors and clipped at the bandages off. She winced as she peeled the last layer off, seeing it sticking to his skin from the dried blood. She searched through her bin for some peroxide and a cotton ball, so she can clean the wound and prevent an infection. "This will sting."

"Ah—geez, more pain." He winced as she started cleaning his wound. "Why can't Lydia just heal it?" he complained. "Less pain."

"For you, yea, for her, no." Jackson told him. "She's too weak to use her magic anymore. I'm not letting her do it. Take the pain like a man Stilinski, if we have to deal with it, so do you."

"I'm still waiting an explanation you guys." The sheriff's voice rang out. "Don't make me arrest all of you for putting my son in this condition."

Stiles avoided this moment. He actually had planned this out if the moment ever came, he just didn't think it would happen under the current circumstance.

He honestly was going to bribe his father with a large steak.

"We'll…" he sighed. "It started the day…" and so he explained to his dad on the day that changed his and Scott's life. The day when they went into the woods to find Laura's body (well the other half) and when Peter, with no sanity at the time, bit Scott.

He looked at the ground when he explained to his father, not wanting to see his disappointment because he kept something so important from him. That he broke his trust.

His dad had kept quiet the whole time. Every once in a while, one of the pack would interrupt to tell their side.

Derek also took the time to explain what really had happened involving the hale fire. Stiles could still feel the pain in his voice when he spoke of this subject, so he slid a hand and rested his fingers on top of his hand a little.

The small warmth from Stiles' fingers on his bit of hand comforted him. He slowly slid his hand closer to Stiles' as he shifts his body a bit.

Stiles then explained what really happened the day he was missing after he scored for the lacrosse team.

Then it all reached down to the battle with the Alphas. To when Deucalion stabbed Stiles in the chest and how he died. Of when he woke up in heaven and met _her _again, along with Derek and Peter's family.

He then told him, after seeing his father's face filled with pain hearing of his son's death and not knowing about it, Lydia, being a tribal elf, had brought him back from death. It was just Stiles whole heartedly outstanding holy fucking crap luck that all the necessary requirements were there to bring him back.

After he finished, he was really reluctant to look at him. Melissa had finished fixing him up a while ago and just sat there and listened to him as he explained.

The sheriff on the other hand, was speechless at what his son was keeping from him this whole entire time and how _dangerous_ the situation really was. He looked at Stiles, aside from the small amount of anger, he felt disappointed. Little in Stiles, but more in himself because he _didn't know_.

It was his job to figure out these things, and he was damn good at it too, but for this to hide under his nose, in his own home and from his own, he felt like he failed.

When he thought about it some more, it finally made sense of all the things that were just…odd. It didn't add up to the case he worked on and the evidence also made sense.

"Why didn't you…ever tell me, Stiles?" he asked and saw the boy flinch as he said his name.

"I…just never wanted to get you caught up in all of this." he twirled his finger in the air slowly. "I knew it would hurt you for all the lying that would come, but that seem more ideal then to see you get hurt and…" Stiles didn't dare to finish the sentence. "—well, you know." Stiles looked over to his father, who stared at him in disbelief.

"You think I'm alright with that? Seeing you get hurt in unimaginable ways and I had _no_ clue about all of this?!" he motioned to everyone in the room. "Yes, Stiles, it hurts me that you lied so much about this, but it hurts me more that you couldn't come to your own father about your troubles, that you don't have faith in me. _I'm_ the one that's supposed to be taking care of you and make sure you don't get hurt and making it safer for _you_." He paused. "Not the other way around."

Everything was quiet for a moment. The sheriff looked on over to Melissa. "How'd you find out?" he wondered.

"Remember when we were held hostage by Matt?"

The sheriff groaned. "Please don't tell me you found out after I got knocked out."

"Sorry, but yea it was." She said.

John groaned and then sighed. "Even if I told you to stay away from all of this, you probably won't listen to me at all." He rubbed a hand back and forth on his forehead. "From now on, when something happens, come and tell me Sti—no—_all_ of you, come tell me, understand?" he pointed at everyone.

"We will." Derek said. He nodded and repeated again. "We will."

"No more secrets alright? You kids don't have to do this all on your own, and that includes you too Derek." They all nodded.

"I have a question for all of you too." Melissa said. Everyone turned their attention towards her. "Do _any_ of your parent's know about this?" she asked. They flinched.

_**No.**_

"Were…waiting for the right moment…" Boyd said. "…to tell them. Just not now."

"What makes you think now isn't such a good time to?" she crossed her arms.

Boyd simply shrugged his shoulders. "A gut feeling." He said. "And I trust my gut."

"…oh gosh." Melissa groaned. "Just, try and be careful out there alright kids?" she sighed. "I hear a bottle of red wine calling me." she went towards the kitchen. "Glass for you, John?" she called out. He happily replied, ignoring the piercing look he got from Stiles. He never approved of drinking in the daytime.

"I'll talk to you two later back home." John pointed at Stiles and Derek. "Because we need to have a long talk." Stiles groaned. "For now…let's all try to relax. You guys look like you seriously need It." he observed the exhausted looks of the kids.

"We bought steaks." Erica said.

"Good, I need one after digesting all of this." John motioned at everything. "Let Melissa and I prepare some food while you guys just relax." He got up and headed towards the kitchen.

Scott turned towards Stiles. "I'm surprised you're letting your dad go near a steak."

"And that alcohol at this time of day, but I'm letting it slide this time." Stiles grumbled. "Considering the fact we spilled the entire shelf of beans and he's slowly taking it all in and the fact that He's going to give Derek and I 'the talk' later on I'm pretty sure this time is alright." Stiles yawned and slumped on Derek's shoulder. "Now I'm so freaking tired."

Derek, who had remained quiet, pulled the blanket up on Stiles and tucked him in it.

"Just sleep for now." He said to Stiles. He didn't want the boy to sleep, but dear god does the boy need it.

We'll, now that the Sheriff knew of Stiles and him, he wouldn't be bothered (much) if he just repositioned Stiles a bit.

Derek carefully lifted Stiles and set him between his legs, so Stiles could lean on Derek and be a bit more comfortable. He seemed to do the right thing when Stiles snuggled up to Derek and tucked one of his feet under his. Stiles' hand found Derek's and their fingers intertwined under the blanket. Derek sighed, finally relaxing and letting the huge load off his shoulders that had the label 'The Sheriff' over it.

Derek honed his senses onto Stiles' relaxed beating heart, his steady breathing. It assured him that he was asleep. The sound of this was absolutely soothing to him that he eventually fell asleep too.

That was how Melissa and John found him and Stiles as well as the rest of the kids. They all fell asleep, and oddly had huddled together. Jackson had a protective arm around a snoring Lydia (which they both held their laughter in at), Erica had an arm around Isaac, and Boyd had one around her. Scott and Allison were together and all were near, limbs and arms touching one way or another.

And a sight that had brought a smile to John's face was the content smile formed on his son's face and surprisingly Derek's as well. Derek had Stiles in his lap, head rested on Stiles' shoulder. He saw their hand peek out from the blankets that some of the kids had draped over them. Their fingers intertwined.

He heard a click nearby. He glanced and saw Melissa had snapped a photo of them from her cell phone. She smiled and saved it.

"Now how about those steaks?" a voice said softly behind them. They both turned to see Derek's uncle and Allison's father. Peter was the one that spoke out.

"Peter?" Melissa said. "Chris?"

"I was here earlier, sorry for barging in so rudely." He apologized. "I had to visit a certain someone."

"Melissa, Sheriff." Chris greeted them. "I just wanted to see how Allison was doing. She seemed pretty upset last night."

"No…no, not a problem."

"C'mon, let's leave them sleeping." John said. "We all need to talk."

Peter and Chris both nodded.

Peter nodded at John. "I'm sure once we get them cooking the kiddos will wake up."

Melissa laughed. "Scott's alarm clock is the smell of bacon." She said as the adults wandered off to the kitchen in the back.

* * *

**AN:**** Also, I don't know if i should leave it like this or add in a last, third chapter of the talk between the Sheriff and Stiles. I'm going half and half on this guys, should i? Your choice~ :D Leave your lovely reviews! :))**


End file.
